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^PHANTOMS     OF     LIFE_ 

e£*c*O 


LUTHER  DANA  WATERMAN 


NEW   YORK 
G.    P.    PUTNAM'S   SONS 

27   &    2Q   WEST   23D   STREET 
1883 


COPYRIGHT  BY 
LUTHER  DANA   WATERMAN 

1883 


Press  of 

G.  P.  PUTNAM'S  SONS 
27  &  29  W.  2-,</  St. 


PHANTOMS  OF  LIFE. 


. 
WOULD  unclasp  a  fibre  of  life's  pain 

By  giving  glimpses  to  the  soul  beguiled 
Of  that  fair  land  whose  boundaries  lie  far  down 
In  the  wild  world  that  colors  all  our  dreams, 
Far-dwelling,  fragrant,  flowery,  and  bedewed, 
Beyond  the  ken  of  day  ;  but  whither  yet 
The  heart  will  yearn  with  instinct  unappeased 
As  yearns  the  child  for  its  dead  mother's  breast, 
And  with  a  faith  that 's  stronger  than  all  sense, 
Than  reason  clearer,  longer-lived  than  will, 
Despite  the  frigid  clay  that  wraps  this  life 
And  all  the  poisoned  passions  that  betray, 
The  soul  sends  out  frail  gossamers  of  hope 
To  catch  the  radiance  of  that  unknown  clime 
And  thrill  with  the  unheard  music  of  its  shores. 
Oh  !  if  the  autumn  bud  within  its  husk 
Has  felt  a  prescience  of  the  summer  come 
And  swelled  impulsive  with  a  fragrant  hope, 


2  PHANTOMS  OF  LIFE. 

Why,  why  may  not  the  soul,  by  earth  bedimmed, 
In  inmost  centre  of  its  consciousness 
Glow  with  a  transient  gleam  of  happier  lands 
And  melt  with  mellow  music  heard  by  hope  ? 

II. 

As  soars  the  summer  lark  high  into  heaven 

It  pours  a-down  to  earth  with  all  its  soul 

The  melody  it  catches  as  it  goes 

Above  the  din  of  this  discordant  world  ; 

So  one  as  striving  up  toward  truth  he  goes, 

With  laboring  soul  that  knows  but  that  it  moves 

Onward  and  upward  and  godward  for  aye, 

Should  tell  the  new  stars  that  his  eye  can  see  ; 

Should  pass  the  watchword  of  the  sentinel 

That  ever  sings  upon  the  battlements 

That  look  o'er  man's  existence  "  all  is  well  "  ; 

Should  with  his  song  tell  all  who  sleep  below 

That  morn  is  near,  and  seen  from   his  clear  height, 

And  known  by  sheen  of  its  ethereal  spear  ; 

And  give  the  music  and  the  morning  song 

Of  his  soul's  heavenward  aspiration  pure 

To  sweetly  all  the  dawn  below  attune. 


PHANTOMS   OF  LIFE. 


III. 

Oh  !  ever  nearer,  clearer  to  the  soul 

Are  heard  the  harmonies  divine  of  heaven, 

And  dimmer  the  infernal  discords  grow. 

New  starry  truths  are  visible  above  ; 

Far  more  unmixed  and  purer  is  the  song 

Creation  sings  around  the  central  throne  ; 

And  pure  its  echo  from  the  furthest  bound  ; 

Sweet  voice  of  answer  from  the  outmost  thing 

That  living  glows  in  space's  utmost  verge. 

O'er  all  the  discord  of  this  striving  world 

Floats  higher  concord,  subtle  yet  distinct, 

Of  which  earth's  murmur  makes  a  faint  sweet  note. 

There  comes  dim  vision  of  the  transformed  world 

When  it  and  man  are  sunned  with  truth's  full  smile  ; 

And  o'er  the  conscious  soul  there  gently  breathes 

The  flowing  ether  that  forever  bears 

All  nature,  on  its  bosom,  toward  its  aim. 


2  PHANTOMS  OF  LIFE. 

Why,  why  may  not  the  soul,  by  earth  bedimmed, 
In  inmost  centre  of  its  consciousness 
Glow  with  a  transient  gleam  of  happier  lands 
And  melt  with  mellow  music  heard  by  hope  ? 

II. 

As  soars  the  summer  lark  high  into  heaven 

It  pours  a-down  to  earth  with  all  its  soul 

The  melody  it  catches  as  it  goes 

Above  the  din  of  this  discordant  world  ; 

So  one  as  striving  up  toward  truth  he  goes, 

With  laboring  soul  that  knows  but  that  it  moves 

Onward  and  upward  and  godward  for  aye, 

Should  tell  the  new  stars  that  his  eye  can  see ; 

Should  pass  the  watchword  of  the  sentinel 

That  ever  sings  upon  the  battlements 

That  look  o'er  man's  existence  "  all  is  well  "  ; 

Should  with  his  song  tell  all  who  sleep  below 

That  morn  is  near,  and  seen  from   his  clear  height, 

And  known  by  sheen  of  its  ethereal  spear  ; 

And  give  the  music  and  the  morning  song 

Of  his  soul's  heavenward  aspiration  pure 

To  sweetly  all  the  dawn  below  attune. 


PHANTOMS   OF  LIFE. 


III. 

Oh  !  ever  nearer,  clearer  to  the  soul 

Are  heard  the  harmonies  divine  of  heaven, 

And  dimmer  the  infernal  discords  grow. 

New  starry  truths  are  visible  above  ; 

Far  more  unmixed  and  purer  is  the  song 

Creation  sings  around  the  central  throne  ; 

And  pure  its  echo  from  the  furthest  bound  ; 

Sweet  voice  of  answer  from  the  outmost  thing 

That  living  glows  in  space's  utmost  verge. 

O'er  all  the  discord  of  this  striving  world 

Floats  higher  concord,  subtle  yet  distinct, 

Of  which  earth's  murmur  makes  a  faint  sweet  note. 

There  comes  dim  vision  of  the  transformed  world 

When  it  and  man  are  sunned  with  truth's  full  smile  ; 

And  o'er  the  conscious  soul  there  gently  breathes 

The  flowing  ether  that  forever  bears 

All  nature,  on  its  bosom,  toward  its  aim. 


O  PHANTOMS  OF  LIFE. 

It  has  a  realm  unseen,  but  ever  shaped 
Of  its  own  wishes  from  the  world  around  ; 
And  lives  a  liquid  life,  and  shapes  itself 
With  self-made  indentation  to  its  shore. 


VI. 

The  truth  in  its  full  sweetness  measured  out 

Is  poetry,  that  sets  the  labor  of  our  lives 

To  music,  until  work  becomes  a  song 

With  a  rich  lesson  in  it  ;  and  it  gives 

The  truthful  dreams,  that  break  at  midnight  hour 

The  spirit's  solitude,  in  which  it  holds 

A  mystical  communion,  converse  high 

With  the  more  ethereal  world  that  lies  beyond 

The  common  sight  of  man  ;  and  hears  sweet  airs 

By  nature  breathed  upon  the  chords  of  life. 

Such  poetry  is  the  Sabbath  of  our  thoughts  ; 

It  ever  fills  the  soul  o'erfull  of  such 

Rich  thoughts  as  come  with  spring  in  meadows  wild. 


PHANTOMS    OF  LIFE. 


VII. 

As  man  shall  ripen  poetry  shall  grow  ; 

And  utter  all  his  soul's  high  thoughts  in  song 

Whose  tones  shall  move  an  eager  listening  age 

And  into  harmony  their  souls  convert. 

The  poet  brings  the  lofty  down  to  earth  ; 

And  veiled  in  sweetness  pure  philosophy 

Breaks  to  the  common  heart  of  humankind. 

Philosophers  are  poets,  and  are  led 

By  daring  reason,  that  would  searching  find 

The  meaning  of  existence,  up  to  love. 

The  poet,  worthy  of  the  dignity, 

Through  beauty  rises  to  philosophy 

So  pure  it  knows  an  angel,  though  in  mask, 

By  its  sweet  mission  promptly  recognized, 

And  lives  a  helper  in  its  kind  intents. 


PHANTOMS  OF  LIFE. 


VIII. 

Again  shall  poetry  be  prophecy 

And  higher  truth  new-winged  with  melody. 

Will  knowledge  ever  feeling  paralyze  ? 

Give  it  again  the  good  and  beautiful 

Beneath  the  ever-changing  forms  of  time  ; 

Its  theme  the  golden  beam  that  passing  through 

The  lingering  chaos  of  this  present  earth 

Lights  into  truth  and  hope  the  darkness  left, 

Revealing  unto  man  his  higher  aims. 

It  must  no  longer  hang  a  faded  flower  ; 

But  be  expression  of  man's  truest  hope  ; 

The  voice  within  his  soul  of  truths  to  come  ; 

The  utterance  of  the  souls  who  lead  the  world, 

And  cheering  shout  of  victory's  approach. 


PHANTOMS  OF  LIFE. 


IX. 

Thought  that  is  winged  for  loftiness  may  catch 

The  ravelled  end  of  being  in  itself 

And  trace  it  through  the  labyrinth  of  life 

By  its  necessity — the  law  of  life  ; — 

So  from  dull  clay  in  fancy  call  up  forms 

Of  heaven,  and  in  all  living  beauty  clothe  ; 

And  see  in  this  uncultared  world  a  trace 

Of  primal  loveliness  to  tint  its  thoughts  : 

So  carve  a  rough  and  unhewn  soul  by  love 

To  life's  full  statured  majesty  of  mien. 

The  rarest  glimpse  of  beauty  is  a  hint 

The  h\art  may  seize  on,  and  so  travel  out 

By  subtlest  cords  of  feeling  till  they  reach 

The  beautiful  of  its  own  inmost  wish  : 

And  souls  are  thirsting  for  the  beautiful 

As  the  earth  does  for  summer-evening  dews. 


IO  PHANTOMS  OF  LIFE. 


X. 

Man  skimming  all  that  has  been  writ  by  man 

Must  catch  it  not  as  habit  of  the  mind, 

But  keep  its  music  echoing  in  his  soul  ; 

And  sip  from  all  things  truth  as  bees  from  fields 

Get  only  honey  ;  and  so  grow  a  heart 

That  dares  to  pierce  the  dust  of  centuries, 

And  veils  of  purpose  woven  by  mankind, 

To  seek  the  truth  even  if  his  hopes  should  die. 

The  reach  of  earth  toward  heaven  is  told 

By  the  mapped  orbit  of  its  highest  soul. 

He  must  go  on  in  earnest  pathway  straight 

Seeking  for  heaven,  and  he  shall  final  find  ; 

For  it  forever  does  ensphere  this  world  : 

They  only  miss  who  hesitate  to  soar  ; 

Whose  feet  to  clay  cling  with  a  frantic  fear. 


PHANTOMS  OF  LIFE.  1 1 


XI. 

Long  after  earth  was  made  the  common  eye, 
In  purpose  purified,  could  trace  the  truth 
And  beauty  in  it  clear  again  to  God, 
Who  lately  made  it,  and  so  learn  His  law  ; 
But  now  bright  broken  gleams  alone  are  left 
That  show  dim  reason  ;  so  the  soul  must  seek 
Now  earth  has  passed  its  furthest  orbit  dark 
For  truth  and  glory  brightening  on  ahead. 
The  soul  that  loves  the  truth  has  that  within 
That  makes  it  priceless  :  't  is  so  pure  it  needs 
But  little  change  to  make  it  angel  all : 
It  finds  on  every  leaf  the  written  word, 
Divine  when  once  we  know  the  language  well. 


12  PHANTOMS  OF  LIFE. 


XII. 

The  narrow  bounds  of  earth's  intelligence 

Beside  the  wideness  of  his  dream-domain 

Is  half  the  lesson  man  learns  here  below. 

How  sad  each  new  conviction  makes  the  soul 

That  just  has  launched  upon  an  unknown  sea 

With  fairy-lands  of  fancy  in  his  hope 

And  magic  powers  of  manhood  in  his  arms. 

Ah  !  when  the  richest  souls  are  wrecked,  how  poor 

And  paltry  are  the  fragments  strown  on  shore. 

Yet  there  are  days  when  to  the  hopeful  soul 

Awaiting  for  its  dreams  to  verify 

Nought  seems  impossible  that  it  can  name  ; 

For  action  seems  all  language  to  outrun, 

And  words  too  slowly  shape  themselves  for  deeds. 

Life  larger  seems  and  with  more  meaning  full, 

And  death  the  dimming  of  the  eye  that  opes 

On  dazzling  vision  of  far  brighter  scenes. 


PHANTOMS   OF  LIFE.  13 


XIII. 

To  him  whose  hope  is  lifted  up  in  faith, 

Who  sends  his  aspiration  up  to  heaven, 

There  comes  the  spark  that  shows  the  world  unseen 

Is  kindred  in  its  truths  to  all  we  know  ; 

But  spreads  its  living  vastness  far  beyond 

The  meagre  world  he  touches  in  this  life  : 

While  of  the  power  that  sways  the  universe, 

He  ponders  on  the  shadow  of  the  fringe 

That  trembles  in  creation's  darkest  void. 

'T  is  well  before  the  problems  of  this  life 

To  stand  with  soul  divested  of  the  false, 

And  comprehend  them  infinite  ;  and  know 

That  great  and  small  have  origin  alike, 

Hid  ever  in  the  unfathomable  past. 


14  PHANTOMS  OF  LIFE. 


XIV. 

Stand  ever  bravely  with  thy  soul  uplift 

And  passive  only  to  the  will  of  heaven. 

So  shalt  thou  catch  the  purposes  of  God 

In  silent  fervor  ere  the  bolt  shall  fall  ; 

And  hold  communion  with  the  universe 

By  truth's  ethereal  influence  conjoined. 

Fly  all  thy  thoughts  toward  heaven,  and  reach 

The  electric  pulses  of  the  skies,  but  give 

Them  easy  passage  to  the  world  beneath, 

Lest  they  o'ercharge  thy  soul.     So  shalt  thou  be 

A  link  in  the  completed  chain  of  all, 

At  ease  to  walk  in  loving  sweet  suspense 

Between  its  higher  and  its  lower  loves. 


PHANTOMS    OF  LIFE.  I  5 


XV. 

Man  yet  shall  have  more  senses  than  these  five, 

And  wider  revelation  of  all  things 

Than  sight  or  hearing.     Now  we  call  it  faith, 

Imagination,  intuition,  hope  ; 

These  are  the  embryo  wings  that  form  within 

That  yet  shall  bear  him  far  beyond  this  earth, 

New  forms  of  life  and  other  hopes  reveal. 

Around  us  throng  the  shadows  of  great  truths, 

And  revelations  hover  o'er  our  path  ; 

They  wait  for  larger  sense  than  man  now  has, 

To  rush  upon  his  soul  for  evermore. 

The  age  called  golden  was  but  earth  lit  up 

Afar  by  dawn  of  glorious  years  to  be  ! 


1 6  PHANTOMS  OF  LIFE. 


XVI. 

Man  once  was  pure  as  infancy  is  pure, 
And  earth  was  beautiful  as  to  a  child — 
Clear  vision  of  its  order  visible. 
But  as  he  questioned  what  he  saw,  he  lost 
The  open  meaning  that  was  all  it  had  ; 
And  sought  it  long  and  blindly  science-wise 
Until  he  reached  his  childhood-faith  again  : 
And  seeing  it,  he  called  himself  redeemed. 
And  every  race  kept  sacredly  the  faith, 
But  in  transmitting  it  so  warped  and  changed 
Until  the  truth  was  not  with  one  but  all ; 
And  only  could  be  found  by  joining  them  : 
So  only  those  whose  souls  by  suffering 
Grew  sympathetic  with  all  kinds  of  men 
Could  get  from  each  a  part  and  blend  to  truth. 


PHANTOMS   OF  LIFE. 


XVII. 

As  the  true  soul  that  grows  with  natural  growth, 

Assimilating  with  a  love  of  truth 

Earth-lore,  and  growing  stronger  with  its  years, 

Can  wean  itself  from  earth  and  feed  its  flame 

From  subtler  lights  than  sunshine  ;  and  can  lure 

From  outward  infinite  diviner  thoughts 

Than  those  which  come  through  matter  intricate — 

So  the  spirit  ripe  in  human  wisdom  finds 

No  truth  it  ever  learned  in  life  grow  false, 

But  only  lose  itself  in  countless  truths. 

By  what  of  god-like  man  has  in  his  soul 

He  knows  to  that  extent  the  absolute. 

All  life  on  earth  is  but  the  spirit-pulse 

That  lends  to  matter  its  significance, 

And  vitalizes  chaos  with  its  touch. 


1 8  PHANTOMS  OF  LIFE. 


XVIII. 

Philosophy  and  numbers  and  high  poetry 
Are  not  mere  phantoms  of  a  mortal  soul, 
Brief  emanations  of  the  life-lit  clay. 
They  are  the  radii  of  the  infinite  ; 
And  mark  the  limits  of  the  human  soul  : 
They  measure  well  the  power  divine  in  man. 
When  dies  the  man  from  matter's  grosser  form, 
And  grows  the  soul  too  strong  for  chemistry, 
And  takes  the  purpose  from  its  organed  mold, 
And  all  the  life-pulse  earthward  ebbs  again, 
Then  man  shall  lose  no  knowledge  that  he  wins, 
And  only  find  it  less  by  knowing  more  ; 
And  know  it  better  as  he  knows  the  more  ; 
And  find  them  parts  of  nature's  spheral  whole. 


PHANTOMS  OF  LIFE.  1 9 


XIX. 

When  men  first  come  from  blank  unconsciousness 

And  hunger  for  mere  food,  they  minister 

To  subtler  changes  and  to  deeper  laws 

Than  we  can  ever  know  ;  they  grow  as  men, 

And  the  keen  wish,  the  hunger  of  the  soul, 

Obeys  a  voice  as  deep  as  their  own  lives 

And  wondrous  as  the  first  of  human  thought. 

The  atoms  that  now  do  the  work  of  will 

No  more  can  be  mere  chemicals  ;  they  have 

Impressed  an  impulse  of  affinity  ; 

And  after  but  with  kindred  atoms  wed 

To  make  a  soul  still  greater  possible. 

Thus  man  in  living  matter  so  uplifts 

To  make  conditions  capable  for  growth 

Of  grander  man  than  all  the  years  have  seen. 


20  PHANTOMS  OF  LIFE. 


XX. 

Some  men  see  clearest  truth  by  onward  sight ; 

Some  backward  looking  through  all  nature's  path. 

This  earth  is  matter's  furthest  outward  growth, 

And  truest  man  the  brain-cell  of  the  earth. 

Matter  and  soul — truth  comes  to  him  through  both. 

He  is  combined  of  all  the  laws  of  earth 

And  elements  in  highest  form  evolved  ; 

And  intuition  gets  of  nature's  will 

By  inward  impulse  of  the  laws  within 

That  serve  to  mark  her  purposes  unchanged  : 

So  man  gets  revelation  from  himself. 

The  soul  is  ever  like  a  vortex  vast 

Directed  godward,  seeking  truth  for  life  ; 

And  with  its  many  aspirations  lures 

The  truth  to  gain  its  final  harmony. 


PHANTOMS  OF  LIFE.  21 


XXI. 

Thought,  flashed  on  life's  stream  infinite,  could  see 

Once  chaos  thrilled  with  equilibrium  lost. 

Matter  for  cycles  grew  more  palpable  ; 

In  ages  liquid  ;  and  then  solid  ;  rock, 

Then  crystal,  plant,  and  animal,  to  man. 

Motion  was  always  :   motion  life  ;  life  change  ; 

And  with  variety  the  universe. 

So  matter  once  centrifugally  fled 

As  organizing  focal  chaos  wandering, 

In  orb  eccentric  :  its  aphelion  reached 

In  conscious  organisms  high,  it  ever  tends 

Godward  again  through  many  subtle  forms, 

Passing  adown  the  steps  of  wondrous  life, 

And  closing  after  it  the  gates  of  light  ; 

So  that  no  glory,  nor  the  sound  of  tool 

Awork  on  worlds  behind,  can  ever  reach 

The  ear  of  man,  in  this  world  while  he  dwells. 


22  PHANTOMS  OF   LIFE. 


XXII. 

From  the  dark  ages,  first  of  human  times, 
When  appetite  was  king,  and  worshipped  all, 
Men  rose  by  slow  degrees  and  many  falls, 
In  blindness  laboring,  mad  and  ravenous, 
To  see  a  higher  purpose  in  their  lives  ; — 
But  fitful,  dim,  and  doubtfully  at  times  ; — 
To  seek  for  order  and  the  way  to  work  ; 
To  ask  for  rights  and  power  to  keep  their  gains 
So  pared  the  surface  from  this  cruder  life, 
And  looked  beneath  to  find  the  deeper  law  ; 
And  wondrous  found  it,  full  of  higher  laws 
That  rule  the  soul  and  so  rule  all  things  else  : — 
Each  man  epitome  of  all  man  learns, 
And  type  of  the  completed  orb  of  things. 


PHANTOMS   OF  LIFE.  2$ 

XXIII. 

Each  soul  has  its  high  mission  it  must  do, 
Or  be  a  clog  upon  the  cumbered  aim 
Of  those  who  strive  with  far  prophetic  eye 
To  work  the  time's  great  purposes. 
The  earth  is  brimmed  with  evils,  and  each  one 
Calls  for  stout  hearts  to  wear  it  beat  by  beat 
Of  hopeful  thought  till  it  gives  way  at  last. 
Oh  !  that  some  hand  would  strike  earth's  blistered 

rocks 

And  bring  such  gush  of  sweet  reviving  joy  ! 
We  teach  machinery  to  work  like  hands, 
And  thus  gain  time  to  further  move  the  world 
Up  toward  the  day  when  work  shall  be  no  more  ; 
When  every  wind  shall  blow  our  words  to  friends  ; 
The  waves  be  all  interpreted  and  talk  ; 
The  light  of  day  shall  carry  thoughts  of  love  ; 
The  clouds  be  full  of  moral  meanings  fine  ; 
And  earth  be  but  the  base  on  which  for  aye 
The  monumental  man  shall  live  and  smile. 
The  strong  -  armed  swimmer,  his  eye  sunned  with 

hope, 
Can  win  rich  waifs  and  glorious  isles  of  calm. 


24  PHANTOMS  OF  LIFE. 


XXIV. 

Man  has  within  his  soul  the  focal  laws 
That  bind  this  earth  into  a  perfect  whole  ; 
The  kindred  links  of  nature  to  the  soul, 
Which  are  as  elements,  conditions,  cause  ; 
And  as  they  in  the  future  upward  reach 
Must  perfect  grow  in  evolution  full, 
Till  matter  shall  with  spirit  wholly  blend. 
The  universe  its  cycle  must  complete, 
In  Time's  vast  vortex  evermore  involved. 
New  constellations  ever  glow  above  ; 
Horizons  never  charted  far  appear  ; 
And  man  must  ever  newer  reckoning  take, 
And  learn  new  modes  of  guidance  or  give  o'er 
To  drift  in  aimless  darkness  evermore. 


PHANTOMS  OF  LIFE.  2$ 


XXV. 

Man  must  have  countless  ways  to  find  the  truth. 

Enlarge  thy  thought  of  revelation's  mode. 

For  every  truth  that  lights  upon  thy  soul 

Thy  latest  revelation  is  on  earth. 

Keep  thou  thy  vision  from  all  falsehood  free  ; 

Thy  spirit  lifted  above  all  things  base, 

That  hovering  truths  may  love  to  light  on  thee 

And  linger  welcomed  till  their  work  is  done. 

Thy  aspiration  inspiration  lures  ; 

And  ever  will  the  soul  awatch  and  pure 

Observe  the  earliest  radiance  of  the  dawn 

And  know  the  coming  day  ere  earth  awakes. 


26  PHANTOMS  OF  LIFE. 


XXVI. 

The  rays  of  truth  that  come  to  reason's  eye 

From  the  far  infinite,  their  only  source, 

Must  ever  seem  to  reason  parallel, 

Converging  never  toward  a  primal  start. 

Who  traces  backward  one  may  travel  on 

Forever  and  no  contradiction  find 

Except  he  lose  his  path.     All  rays  at  last 

Lead  back  to  truth  and  touch  its  wondrous  sphere  ; 

But  only  he  whose  soul  is  large  enough 

To  trace  them  all  until  they  end  in  truth 

And  so  reveal  its  bounds  can  see  the  tend 

That  leads  the  reason  toward  the  darkened  core 

Eternal  of  the  living  final  truth. 


PHANTOMS   OF  LIFE.  2J 

XXVII. 

Look  thou  abroad  and  swear  a  love  for  all 

Thou  seest,  and  all  thou  canst  not  see,  and  peace 

Shall  canopy  thy  soul,  as  full  of  hopes 

As  heaven  of  stars  o'erbends  the  summer  night. 

Who  so  can  comprehend  the  fulness  all 

O£  thought  that  's  hid  in  that  word  love,  has  read 

Life's  riddle  well  and  has  the  key  of  joy. 

Love  is  beyond  and  justice  does  include  ; 

In  fullest  wisdom  only  is  it  found. 

Who  hates  a  thing  in  all  the  universe 

Breeds  in  his  soul  a  life-long  discontent. 

To  hate  is  but  to  suffer  ;  and  to  loathe 

A  single  sweet  existence  is  to  mar. 

False  love  is  self  echoed  by  passion  back. 

True  love  goes  trembling  from  the  soul  for  aye, 

Like  music  from  the  gates  of  paradise 

In  vibratory  sweetness  unreturned. 

Twice  blest  the  soul  that  's  atmosphered  in  love 

And  has  no  ritual  for  it.     Sweet  the  joy 

That  ripples  o'er  the  common  beach  of  life. 


28  PHANTOMS  OF  LIFE. 


XXVIII. 

Some  spirits  spurn  the  sad  inheritance 

Of  flesh,  and  long  for  immortality  ; 

They  shun  the  Eden-lands  that  earth  has  given 

For  man  to  dwell  in  with  scant  happiness, 

And  scale  on  daring  wings  the  wails  of  heaven  ; 

They  thwart  the  sweet  persuasion  of  the  tongue, 

The  lure  of  graceful  form,  the  charm  that  hangs 

On  easy  action,  and  the  pleasant  bribe 

Of  generous  features';    and  they  ever  go 

Through  all  their  days  in  hopes  unwed, 

In  life  misunderstood  ;  and  sail  the  seas 

Of  hope  in  disappointment — pirate  flags 

High  at  their  masts,  and  death-heads  at  their  prow. 


PHANTOMS  OF   LIFE, 


XXIX. 

Some  are  poor  morning  lives  whose  break 
Gave  many  sunrise  promises,  and  had 
A  fitful  beauty  of  their  own,  but  lost 
Themselves  in  gray  imperfectness  of  age. 
Some  are  forever  twilight,  and  give  o'er 
Their  days  to  sadness,  silence,  solitude  ; 
They  hear  the  drip  of  time's  suspended  oar 
Useless  against  the  tide  ;  they  hark  in  vain 
To  whisperings  from  the  beyond  of  life  ; 
Hear  plaintive  cries  reproachful,  making  joy 
A  new  repentance,  and  all  life 
A  sin  perpetual,  by  their  timid  doubts. 
*T  is  hard  to  build  a  life  so  toward  the  sky 
That  every  part  is  in  the  sunshine  steeped. 


3O  PHANTOMS  OF   LIFE. 


XXX. 

Some  lives  are  hungry,  bloodless,  pale,  and  thin, 
And  shun  the  healthy  air  of  common  sports  ; 
They  strain  at  mirth,  go  backward  toward  joy, 
See  but  to  scorn,  and  think  of  but  to  sneer  : 
Like  voiceless  owls,  pale  perched  aloft  in  gloom, 
That  flap  exultant  wings  when  from  afar 
They  see  the  taper  burning  through  the  night 
That  tells  where  some  faint  hope  yet  flickers  low. 
Faint  phantom  things  that  shudder  at  the  moon 
Fear  not  the  sunlight  more  than  they  a  laugh. 
The  essence  of  a  thousand  such  condensed 
Contains  not  one  warm,  full-pulsed,  ruddy  joy 
To  tune  the  march  of  life  to  thankfulness. 


PHANTOMS  OF   LIFE.  31 


XXXI. 

Some  lives  are  sunshine  from  the  break  of  thought : 
Their  days  are  one  glad  noonday  light ;  their  hopes 
From  shadows  free  ;  care's  vapors  all  dispersed  ; 
They  warm  the  earth  around  them  to  such  glow 
No  mists  of  sadness  may  obscure  their  close  ; 
And  soften  down  into  a  quiet  age 
Crowned  with  a  starry  loveliness  of  calm. 
Some,  like  a  funeral  torch,  with  joy  shut  out, 
Slow  burn  themselves  away  in  curtained  gloom, 
Or  soon  flare  out  in  desolate  rainy  streets. 
Some  early  enter  into  solitude, 
And  take  no  wish  to  trace  the  way  by  back. 
Some  taste  of  life  as  of  a  doubtful  drug, 
And  ever  have  at  hand  an  antidote. 


32  PHANTOMS   OF    LIFE, 


XXXII. 

He  who  forsakes  not  fevered  forms  of  life, 
That  fill  with  hopes  they  cannot  gratify, 
Till  they  become  the  tyrants  of  his  joys 
And  leave  life  void  because  it  has  no  aim 
Is  worth  the  stretching  of  the  hand  to  pluck — 
At  last  must  lift  life's  merry  mask  to  find 
A  crumbling  statue  turning  into  clay. 
Such  never  weave  from  threads  of  joy  a  web 
To  catch  the  flying  wings  of  happiness. 
Such  lives  are  ever  parallel  with  truth, 
And  shadowed  by  her  influence  they  go  on, 
And  glow  with  radiance  from  her  golden  goal, 
Till  the  end  comes  and  finds  them  landed  not 
Within  the  wished-for  portals  of  her  bliss. 


PHANTOMS  OF   LIFE,  33 


XXXIII. 

This  earth  is  real  and  this  life  is  true  ; 
And  worth  a  brood  of  distant  suns  to  him 
Who  cannot  weigh  one  breath  of  this  he  has 
With  countless  ages  of  some  other  one. 
Its  summer  lost,  no  gold  can  gild  this  life. 
So  strive  to  pass  thy  days  for  all  their  worth, 
And  sing  thy  song  with  unobstructed  throat, 
And  pause  in  silence  more  melodious  still. 
The  soul  that  feeds  itself  on  phantom  hopes 
And  finds  no  charm  in  russet  cheeks  of  health, 
The  currents  of  its  life  all  inward  turned, 
Deludes  itself  forever  with  base  forms 
By  having  not  calm  purposes  of  faith 
That  fearless  walk  the  waters  of  this  earth 
Despite  the  surge  that  frets  their  steadfast  feet. 


34  PHANTOMS  OF   LIFE. 


XXXIV. 

This  earth's  society  might  better  be  ; 

Yet  greater  liberty  of  love  and  hate 

Would  end  in  anarchy  and  loss  of  all. 

Earth  is  not  ready  for  the  law  of  love  ; 

Its  aim  must  justice  be  until  it  wins. 

But  love  and  justice  ultimate  are  one  ; 

And  he  alone  can  love  whom  wisdom  shows 

That  wrong  to  aught  is  ever  wrong  to  self. 

The  grandest  justice  is  with  pity  one  ; 

No  hand  should  smite  until  't  is  wet  with  tears. 

Who  seeks  the  truth  seeks  God,  for  He  is  truth. 

Who  aims  at  good  and  loves  his  fellow-men 

Is  by  the  fact  embassador  of  Heaven. 


PHANTOMS  OF   LIFE.  35 


XXXV. 

Life  has  more  meaning  in  it  than  all  griefs 

And  loves  and  hates  and  happiness  can  count. 

'T  is  not  in  nature,  either  part  or  all, 

To  comprehend  itself  to  destiny. 

There  is  a  realm  outlying  consciousness, 

Not  claimed  by  title  writ  by  human  ken. 

This  life  an  earthside  and  a  heavenside  has  : 

No  truth  will  come  from  either  if  alone. 

Man  should  walk  wakeful  through  the  glaring  day, 

With  ear  attentive  to  the  mystic  worlds 

That  lie  beyond  in  infinite  expanse, 

And  color  life  as  either  most  prevails. 


36  PHANTOMS  OF  LIFE. 


XXXVI. 

Matter  and  spirit  are  but  branches  both 

That  trace  themselves  to  God,  than  either  more. 

When  man  has  in  assimilation  grown, 

He  shall  know  more  than  now  by  being  more. 

Till  when  let  men  look  forward  hopefully  ; 

And  as  the  music  of  creation's  aim, — 

The  hymn  of  life  that  rose  and  falls  with  time,- 

Swells  louder  to  their  souls,  so  yield  them  up 

That  all  their  purposes  and  thoughts  and  deeds 

Arrange  themselves  with  daily  growth  of  power 

To  harmony  with  all  the  universe  ; 

Till  soul  and  body  be  one  conscious  cord 

Responsive  to  trfe  purposes  that  made. 


PHANTOMS    OF  LIFE.  37 


XXXVII. 

All  knowledge  the  relation  is  the  parts 

Each  other  bear,  and  toward  the  whole  sustain. 

Man's  reason  its  own  limits  can  discern, 

And  conscious  be  in  its  extremest  verge  ; 

He  cannot  cease  until  he  knows  himself  ; 

And  self  will  strive  until  't  is  merged  in  all. 

When  to  their  utmost  reach  he  knows  his  thoughts, 

His  aspiration  will  be  satisfied, 

And  his  whole  prayer  will  final  answer  gain  ; 

Then  echo  from  without  of  voice  that  forms 

Will  swell  with  sympathy  his  song  on  earth  ; 

And  knowledge  lose  itself  in  boundless  faith. 


38  PHANTOMS  OF  LIFE. 


XXXVIII. 

We  see  the  earth  descend  in  beauty's  form, 
And  know  it  but  in  some  material  sense 
From  the  unknown  looming  by  the  path  of  law. 
Hope  leans  us  ever  toward  knowing  more  ; 
So  shuns  the  loss  of  living  consciousness. 
The  lesson  is  far  short  of  final  truth 
Within  man's  reach  in  this  his  earthly  life, 
That  teaches  him  to  cast  this  life  as  nought 
To  find  the  happiness  so  missed  beyond. 
There  is  no  element  of  all  this  earth, 
Atom  or  crystal,  worm  or  man,  can  fail 
Of  its  allotted  labor  and  not  jar 
The  ordered  purpose  of  the  universe 
Out  of  its  groove  and  chaos  bring  again. 


PHANTOMS  OF  LIFE.  39 


XXXIX. 

The^arts  are  gone  that  conquered  nature  first : 

When  we  have  bowed  us  to  her  laws  at  last, 

And  implements  that  help  lie  cast  away, 

As  broken  shells  where  once  the  young  eagle  rose, 

Then  art  shall  minister  man's  higher  needs, 

And  bring  earth's  beauty  out  so  plain  the  blind 

May  see  a  glimpse  of  her  first  loveliness. 

Things  that  are  writ  are  worthless  unless  made 

Into  the  blood  and  brain  of  daily  life  : 

The  good  are  grown  of  earth's  great  pulse  a  part  ; 

So  leave  their  impress  on  the  deeds  of  men. 


40  PHANTOMS  OF  LIFE. 


XL. 

Take  life  as  it  is  given,  and  not  repine 
That  nature  seems  with  stinted  hand  to  give. 
The  gift  that  breedeth  love  is  like  a  mine, 
Richer  the  more  you  search  it.     Joy  to  live  ; 
And  with  a  cheerful  soul  sing  on  the  flowers 
That  earth  outspreads  in  life's  sweet  morning  hours. 
The  soul  should  be  a  fountain  where  all  thoughts 
When  bathed  should  ever  beautiful  come  forth. 
To  rightly  think  of  nature  is  to  pray. 
Who  lives  for  life  existence  well  rewards. 
Who  has  truth's  living  spark  within  his  soul 
Can  fearless  thread  the  darkness  of  this  world, 
And  by  its  radiance  pass  the  gates  of  death  ; 
And  find  it  brighten  as  life  less  obscures, 
To  burn  in  beauty  in  the  realms  beyond. 


PHANTOMS   OF  LIFE.  4! 


XLI. 

Life  has  no  aim  above  the  growth  of  soul. 
This  life  is  not  in  vain  that  teaches  well 
The  value  of  the  soul  beside  all  else. 
For  as  an  atom  moves  the  very  globe 
When  falling  toward  it,  so  one  soul  is  of 
Proportioned  value  in  the  all  of  things. 
Soul-culture  is  the  purpose  of  this  life  ; 
The  harvest  is  all  lost  that  ripes  it  not ; 
And  science  with  a  thousand  shafts  of  light 
The  place  and  poise  of  man  in  nature  shows 
So  correspondent  with  the  universe, 
In  pole  with  pole,  the  currents  all  divine 
Can  pass  unhindered  through  his  willing  soul. 
And  there  are  days  when  the  soul's  atmosphere 
Is  grown  so  clear  the  truth  is  visible. 


42  PHANTOMS  OF  LIFE. 


XLII. 

Wouldst  thou  be  angel-worker  of  the  truth, 
To  sweetness  and  sublimity  give  voice  ; 
And  by  the  atmosphere  and  tone  of  love, 
Whose  touch  gives  beauty  to  the  rudest  things, 
Transfigure  life  to  justice  and  to  joy. 
So  fill  thy  season  men  shall  say  thou  wert 
A  spirit  in  whose  mould  there  was  the  cast 
Of  nations  ;   and  within  thy  soul  there  dwelt 
The  loftiness  of  purpose  that  looks  o'er 
The  stormy  passions  of  the  race  and  sees 
The  steadfast  nature  that  is  far  beyond  ; 
A  pioneer  of  hope  in  spirit  pure 
Of  prophecy,  who  stopped  in  wilds  and  turned 
The  sod  of  happier  realms  that  yet  shall  be. 


PHANTOMS   OF  LIFE.  43 


XLIII. 

To  him  who  labors  in  the  cause  of  truth 

And  sees  its  orb  grow  brighter  as  he  works, 

There  is  no  failure,  save  that  he  may  have 

His  hopes  too  large  for  all  his  power  and  time. 

Let  him  who  knows  his  aims  are  truly  good 

Exult,  for  triumph  on  him  ever  waits, 

And  every  passing  moment  crowns  his  life 

With  conscious  victory  that  greater  grows. 

The  agitation  that  seems  fiercely  bent 

The  tree  of  social  culture  to  uproot 

Has  those  who  represent  it  blind  as  moles, 

Each  burrowing  for  himself  in  search  of  wants. 

The  moral  of  existence  and  the  star 

Is  well  to  know  what  life  is  and  is  not. 

'T  is  what  we  know,  not  what  we  hope," that  makes 

Us  better  in  our  lives.     Far  better  know 

That  we  know  not,  than  think  we  know  and  miss. 


44  PHANTOMS  OF  LIFE. 


XLIV. 

God  works  in  kindness  ;  from  earth's  Babel  sound 
The  ear  that  is  well  opened  for  the  truth 
Hears  oft  the  sweetest  melody  of  mirth  : 
For  when  the  work  divine  goes  on  the  world 
Is  wild  with  music  ;  and  the  words  that  tell 
Unsyllabled  to  men  are  pleasantness. 
Earth  passes  down  the  steps  of  light  so  bright 
Its  radiance  makes  the  unknown  beautiful. 
In  the  true  church  a  harmless  laugh  is  praise  ; 
Joy,   prayer  ;    and    dancing,  worship  ;    more    than 

psalms 

Is  music  ;  and  whole-hearted  happiness, 
Religion,  healthy,  sane,  o'er  whose  expanse 
Sweet  purposes  career.     The  fuller  is  the  soul 
Of  this  earth-life,  the  richer  't  is  in  love. 


PHANTOMS  OF  LIFE.  45 


XLV. 

Men  love  the  truth,  but  all  know  not  its  garb. 
They  seek  the  true  and  worship  what  they  find. 
They  Justice  love  but  do  not  know  her  face, 
And  scowl  at  her  inflexibility. 
'T  is  by  a  truth  and  beauty  all  distort, 
Set  in  a  trap  with  grim  intent  of  wrong, 
That  evil  tempts  ;  for  error  ne'er  allured. 
All  things  exist  by  virtue  of  their  good  : 
What  evil  seems  in  gross  has  good  within. 
Seek  out,  nor  for  its  evil  pass  it  by  : 
So  shall  you  get  an  antidote  for  pain 
From  stifling  weeds  that  stupefy  the  air. 


46  PHANTOMS  OF  LIFE. 


XLVI. 

To-day  is  but  as  others  practical : 
The  present  ever  does  the  real  seem. 
Religion  widens  as  all  else  to  souls. 
Throughout  all  time  the  uttered  words  of  God 
Have  been  interpreted  by  needs  of  men 
And  by  the  voice  of  nature  ;  as  in  days 
When  every  isle,  hill,  dale,  dell,  wood, 
And  every  leaf-built  nook  had  its  air  stirred 
By  flitting  robes  of  more  than  human  form, 
Fair  living  shapes  of  beauty  and  of  good. 
They  of  old  days  whose  souls  were  lift 
Above  desires  that  fever  foolish  flesh 
Saw  earth  and  heaven  as  near  each  other  drawn 
As  he  will  see  who  soars  long  ages  hence. 
Earth  alters  not  save  in  suggestive  forms  ; 
And  it  is  all  it  has  been  to  the  soul ; 
All  it  will  be — it  was  not  made  for  heaven. 


PHANTOMS  OF  LIFE.  47 


XLVII. 

Why  should  man  search  amid  the  darker  days 
Of  dreary  struggles  for  a  meagre  life, 
When  all  the  faculties  of  human  souls 
Were  straining  for  existence  and  for  light, 
To  learn  the  path  to  freedom  and  to  peace — 
The  terms  on  which  life  best  may  yield  to  death  ? 
Why  listen  to  the  lispings  of  his  babyhood  ? 
Not  backward  into  darkness  look  for  truth, 
But  forward,  with  transfigured  spirit,  catch 
The  earliest  radiance  of  the  coming  dawn 
Of  fuller  day  of  final  fadeless  truth. 


48  PHANTOMS  OF  LIFE. 


XLVIII. 

The  orbit  of  the  world  is  its  great  men. 
'T  is  not  complete  till  all  great  men  are  past. 
The  poet's  perfect  world  has  all  within 
In  larger  song  that  gives  full  harmony 
To  words  the  human  heart  can  gladly  sing  ; 
Not  some  bewildered  echo  of  the  truth. 
When  all  time's  cycle  is  at  last  complete, 
The  universe  like  one  great  instrument, 
Made  perfect  and  attuned  by  one  high  hand, 
To  harmony  shall  vibrate  undisturbed  ; 
And  man  shall  know  himself  a  part  of  it, 
And  see  at  last  how  his  discordant  jar 
Is  part  of  its  great  concord  unperceived. 


PHANTOMS    OF  LIFE.  49 


XLIX. 

One  man  of  old  stands  like  a  mountain  top 
Above  the  time,  and  all  the  striving  world 
Seems  ever  since  to  fret  around  his  feet  ; 
And  hardly  see  his  face  above  the  clouds 
Forever  sunned  in  the  serene  of  heaven  : 
Because  our  world  lay  prone  beneath  his  love, 
And  saw  him  highest  from  our  plane  of  self, 
And  felt  his  loving  faith  best  touched  our  eyes 
And  opened  them  to  an  all-boundless  love. 
When  comes  a  day  that  he  shall  be  outgrown, 
The  truth  he  taught  the  coming  fruitage  dwarf  ; 
When  he  no  more  redeems  but  hinders  man, 
Man  will  have  had  far  higher  growth  of  soul, 
And  felt  a  newer  springtime  in  his  thought. 


50  PHANTOMS  OF  LIFE. 


L. 

Then  shape  not  newer  temples  for  thy  thought 
From  broken  sculptures  gathered  from  the  past : 
You  may  not  out  of  ruins  rear  a  shrine 
That  will  not  rather  more  of  ruin  be. 
The  restless  soul  need  gaze  not  up  for  heaven  ; 
It  is  the  light  through  which  all  things  are  seen, 
The  atmosphere  in  which  they  all  exist. 
The  only  avenue  to  bliss  we  have 
Is  by  the  calmer  byways  of  our  lives, 
In  service  of  our  duties  travelled  well 
With  steady  foot  of  kindly  household  faith. 
The  eagle  could  not  poise  his  wings  on  air 
Without  an  eye  on  earth  to  steady  them. 


PHANTOMS  OF  LIFE.  5 1 


LI. 

Forbear  all  martyrdom  of  man's  beliefs  ; 

It  matters  not  to  earth  what  man  believes 

About  the  next  existence  while  in  this, 

So  the  brave  soul  in  honesty  believes. 

We  cannot  thwart  the  ordered  course  of  earth 

By  knowing  more  or  less  of  what  it  is  ; 

Nor  can  by  alchemy  anticipate, 

Of  this  outflowering  world  from  chaos  up, 

The  final  end, — of  wither  or  of  fruit. 

So  let  Truth's  workmen  unannoyed  go  on  : 

Time  swiftly  brings  us  the  conclusion  clear. 

But  in  the  petty  balances  of  life, 

Whereby  we  earn  and  live  and  fight  and  wed, 

It  much  concerns  us  what  our  fellows  think, 

That  help  or  hinder  may  our  small  success. 


52  PHANTOMS  OF  LIFE. 

LII. 

Conformity  is  often  cowardice. 

Let  man  stand  up  and  face  his  fellow-man. 

Away  with  dead  majestic  forms  of  forms  ; 

Speak  now  the  truth  and  the  soul's  verdict  give. 

In  the  wise  future  men  shall  speak  of  this 

As  one  among  the  ages  wandered  off. 

But  few  from  follies  ever  stand  aloof. 

Let  men  who  look  grow  wiser  as  they  live. 

Not  what  a  man  believes,  but  what  he  does, 

Concerns  all  other  men.     For  our  beliefs 

Do  not  affect  the  life,  or  world  to  come. 

No  creed  can  substitute  our  duties  here. 

The  souls  of  men  cannot  be  swept  at  once 

Of  what  the  thousand  years  have  died  to  teach. 

Who  sees  the  whence  and  whither  of  this  world 

Is  in  the  womb  and  sepulchre  of  things, 

Yet  would  be  oracle,  aye  hides  behind 

The  fanes ;  and  speaks  as  if  the  statued  gods 

Had  moved  their  marbled  lips  in  silence  vain 

Till  he  had  their  interpreter  become. 


PHANTOMS  OF  LIFE.  53 


LIU. 

Against  himself  not  nature  man  can  sin  ; 

Forever  he  does  that  which  it  intends. 

When  man  shall  fail  to  fill  his  highest  life, 

His  aspirations  for  this  world  are  dwarfed, 

And  life's  rich  fruit  drops  off  ere  it  matures. 

Though  man  should  mar  the  manhood  in  his  soul 

The  final  justice  never  feels  the  jar, 

More  than  tossed  pebble  of  a  school-boy's  sport 

Can  shake  the  universe's  equipoise. 

All  things  as  they  transmute  themselves  to  truth 

Lose  all  of  sin's  unlikeness  that  they  have. 

The  eternal,  infinite,  and  absolute 

Man  knows  by  so  much  as  he  has  within 

Of  Godlike  :  thus  he  measure  may 

How  much  of  infinite  his  spirit  has  ; 

How  near  eternal  is  his  consciousness. 


54  PHANTOMS  OF  LIFE. 


LIV. 

Philosophy,  religion,  poetry 

Blend  into  unity  as  grows  the  soul. 

The  creeds  are  fossil :  true  religion  is 

The  just  conception  of  the  things  that  are. 

That  church  whose  best  are  bigots,  yet  are  true 

To  the  accepted  creed,  is  false.     Give  not 

The  dead  and  dry  bones  of  old  school-boy  tasks 

To  the  young  tooth  of  hungry  liberty  ; 

Nor  put  the  dried  blood  of  old,  outlived  thought 

Into  the  veins  of  a  new  vigorous  race 

To  breed  a  pestilence.     The  world  has  saved 

These  relics  for  the  humanness  within. 

There  is  an  idea  given  a  slothful  slave 

Will  of  him  after  make  a  noble  race. 

Let  history  tell  the  doer's  deeds  and  life 

Not  capers  of  the  puppets  of  the  age. 


PHANTOMS  OF  LIFE.  55 

LV. 

The  vision  peaks  that  tower  up  out  of  life 
See  truths  are  echoes  of  a  voice  within  ; 
And  facts  as  true  as  truth,  the  deeds  of  God  ; 
And  books  that  tell  them  are  his  records  writ. 
God  never  did  a  thing  in  living  works 
To  contradict  it  in  a  written  word. 
The  day  is  near  when  worship  shall  be  thought, 
And  every  life  shall  be  a  joyful  hymn. 
A  fountain  of  full  hope  unstruck  by  men 
Deep  in  the  human  soul  forever  lies. 
One  moment  of  pure  joy  repays  a  life 
And  makes  it  better  to  have  lived  on  earth. 
We  mount  the  summit  of  no  year  but  gives 
Some  touch  of  brightness  breaking  far  beyond. 
Thrice  happy  is  the  heart  that  can  so  press 
From  hours  of  life  their  joy,  earth's  richest  art. 
Resolve  to  conquer  what  is  wrong  within 
And  a  religion  has  in  thee  begun. 


5 6  PHANTOMS  OF  LIFE. 


LVI. 

Seek  thou  the.  law  no  longer  through  old  lives  ; 

Reject  their  lispings  of  imperfect  truth  ; 

In  knowledge,  go  to  nature  for  thy  faith  : 

So  canst  thou  know  the  real,  living  word. 

Ever  the  truth,  despite  its  angel  eye, 

Is  known  and  worshipped  only  by  the  true. 

Day  after  day  reveals  anew  the  world  ; 

Year  after  year  recruits  the  human  heart ; 

And  yet  we  tread  the  steady  round  of  life, 

And  play  with  toys  our  fathers  threw  away, 

And  yield  to  lures  that  fooled  men  long  ago  ; 

Still  in  our  feelings  worship  as  divine 

The  beings  by  the  aged  counted  myths, 

Or   known    as   thread-bare   fictions   wrought   with 

fact. 

Now  man  .mature  must  brush  the  fancy-webs 
Of  infancy  away,  and  grasp  the  true. 


PHANTOMS  OF  LIFE.  $? 


LVII. 

Each  day  shows  newer  earth  than  yesterday, 

And  every  moon  reveals  another  night. 

Another  spring  succeeds  the  one  that  waned. 

All  things  that  speed  them  in  the  groove  of  change 

Develop  into  boundless  difference. 

We  die  from  earth  when  those  who  knew  us  die. 

This  form  may  be  eternal,  yet  not  known 

When  separate  from  present  attributes, 

In  purer  life  transfigured  and  illumed 

By  radiance  hindered  by  no  earthly  air. 

What  matters  it ;  we  shall  not  cast  our  forms 

Till  they  obstruct  the  greater  growth  of  soul, 

And  love's  attraction,  and  become  a  load 

We  gladly  lighten  from  our  souls  for  aye. 


$8  PHANTOMS  OF  LIFE. 


LVIII. 

Each  hour  is  capable  of  joy  ;  each  step 

Leads  our  lives  forward  to  some  bliss  ;  each  thought 

Has  in  it  pleasure  hidden  ;  every  pulse 

Is  one  more  rapture  counted  up  to  life. 

Duties  well  done  but  reconcile  this  life's 

Opposing  features  into  happiness  ; 

And  every  silent  deed  of  love  will  swell 

Through  years  to  ocean  tides  of  benefit  ; 

And  that  which  guides  us  surest  here  below 

Best  fits  us  for  a  future.     Throw  not  down 

The  golden  present  for  a  future  pearl. 

Go  thou  through  earth  but  with  an  eye  on  heaven  ; 

And  keep  the  vesture  of  thy  spirit  pure 

By  thought  lift  up  to  beauty  ;  and  thy  heart 

Be  sweet  with  kind  remembrance  treasured  up. 


PHANTOMS  OF  LIFE.  $9 


LIX. 

This  earth  is  to  each  creature  as  it  sees, 

And  ever  keeps  apace  with  its  own  hopes  : 

To  the  worm,  a  hiding-place  from  accidents  ; 

To  the  eagle,  fields  where  it  may  swoop  for  prey  ; 

To  man,  a  foot-path  and  a  soil  to  dig, 

A  place  to  play  his  petty  passions  in, 

And  seeking  life's  small  aims  forever  miss — 

But  work,  unknowing,  nature's  purposes  ; 

And  to  the  angel-soul,  or  angel-like, 

A  boundless  field  for  pity  and  for  thanks, 

For  charity,  and  unrewarded  faith 

In  manhood  more  than  any  single  man. 

Earth's  bane  or  blessing  is  in  thy  resolve. 

Fill  well  the  orbit  of  thy  being  up 

On  earth  while  here,  and  leave  the  glow  to  God. 


60  PHANTOMS  OF  LIFE. 


LX. 

All  things  are  perfect  to  their  perfect  end  ; 
From  perfect  cause  imperfect  cannot  come. 
Whatever  has  not  harmony  is  false. 
There  is  a  truth  will  harmonize  all  things  : 
It  ever  tends  to  show  the  sweet  accord 
That  joins  all  things  together  in  their  aims. 
The  false  is  always  but  a  part  of  truth. 
Man's  earthly  eye  can  only  partly  see, 
And  discord  sees  ;  but  to  his  spirit-eye 
Some  discords  blend  to  concord  ;  and  so  faith 
Sweeps  on  from  part  to  whole  and  sees 
The  glorious  aim  that  unisons  all  things. 


PHANTOMS  OF  LIFE.  6 1 


LXI. 

Feel  thou  the  self-hood  of  the  human  race, 

The  oneness  of  the  conscious  creature  man ; 

So  linked  by  laws  to  final  unity, 

By  aims,  by  source,  by  hopes,  by  nature  all, 

That  all  men  are  in  conscious  fate  involved. 

Build  thou  thy  faith  on  science,  which  is  based 

On  truth,  and  which  shall  yet  o'erarch  all  things  ; 

For  it  retraces,  through  all  subtle  change, 

The  thought  by  which  the  universe  was  made. 

How  ever  insignificant  seem  men 

Beside  the  truths  they  poorly  represent, 

Each  burrowing  for  himself  in  search  of  wants, 

While  truth  must  wait  :  meanwhile  the  hopes  and 

hearts 
Of  men  enlist,  and  grander  contest  grows. 


62  PHANTOMS    OF  LIFE. 


LXII. 

There  is  forever  in  the  immortal  soul 

A  wild  unrest,  a  hope  unsatisfied, 

That  throws  one  after  one  life's  toys  away, 

And  clings  to  nothing  save  it  keeps  apace  ; 

Growing  and  reaching  after  something  more. 

The  love  that  satisfies  and  stills  must  be 

Most  keen  in  sweet  affinities  of  soul, 

Or  rich  in  powers  by  blessed  union  given  ; 

Or  duty  drag  it  from  its  frantic  hopes 

To  labor  in  the  steady  ways  of  life. 

How  weary  one  poor  wish  yet  unfulfilled 

Can  make  the  heart !    Yet  man  has  in  his  soul, 

Beyond  all  thought,  an  instinct  makes  him  live  ; 

And  living  love  ;  and  loving  deify. 


PHANTOMS    OF  LIFE.  63 


LXIII. 

Life  is  a  lesson  in  the  art  of  love, 

That  makes  our  wayward  lives  religious  ;  turns 

The  deluged  heart  to  a  sweet  ministry. 

It  is  the  faith  that  makes  life's  prayer  complete. 

When  pure  it  brings  from  out  the  chords  of  life 

Their  fullest  music  sweetly  struck  to  joy. 

It  flashes  on  the  sombre  links  of  life 

And  gives  it  shape  and  glow  of  happiness  ; 

Its  incense  given  to  souls  debased  in  self, 

The  dregs  but  leaves,  the  perfume  goes  to  heaven. 

It  finds  its  own  in  other's  happiness  ; 

And  if  't  is  true  must  have  such  qualities 

It  will  for  life  knit  closer  day  by  day 

The  hearts  that  have  its  sweet  affinity. 

There  are  in  every  good,  well-purposed  life 

Hours  when  the  passions  are  all  kissed  to  sleep 

By  the  fulfilment  of  its  happiest  hopes  : 

Then  man  is  angel  if  but  for  those  hours. 


64  PHANTOMS    OF  LIFE. 


LXIV. 

We  need  no  old  romance  to  teach  us  love 

Or  pain  and  penance  full  as  life  may  know. 

Is  not  the  earth  as  green  and  sunshine  bright, 

And  winter  cold,  as  in  the  fabled  past  ? 

Are  not  our  nerves  as  tense  and  sensitive  ? 

We  cannot  better  bear  the  cruel  knife 

That  cuts  life's  clinging  hope,  than  they 

Who  lived  their  rough  and  hardy  lives  of  old  ; 

Who  grasped  as  right  whatever  they  could  reach, 

And  got  their  title  clear  by  holding  fast. 

All  nature  bids  us  love  and  offers  joy. 

None  knows  a  life  who  feels  not  what  it  feels  ; 

No  one  is  master  of  a  soul  whose  kiss 

Turns  not  its  deepest  sorrow  into  joy  ; 

None  may  a  soul  unless  he  loves  it  guide. 

The  greatest  souls  are  always  only  great 

To  those  who  loving  worship  as  they  learn. 


PHANTOMS    OF  LIFE.  6$ 

LXV. 

Ah  !  love  is  oft  a  phantom  island  far  ; 

Nor  ever  rightly  known  from  fairy  clouds 

Till  our  hearts  wreck  upon  the  reefs  of  doubt. 

Though  from  the  rocks  hope  strikes  a  crystal  stream 

It  mostly  runs  through  evil-tainted  sands, 

Defiled  by  mixture  with  the  things  of  fear. 

But  if  't  is  love  to  have  a  living  joy 

Set  in  the  spirit  by  each  nameless  grace  ; 

If  it  be  love  out  of  the  darkest  depths 

Of  life  grown  desolate  for  want  of  hope 

To  feel  a  newer  life  come  eager  forth, 

Crowned  with  immortal  beauty  into  joy, 

At  whose  quick  touch  this  earth's  discordant  parts 

Are  gathered  into  wondrous  harmony  ; 

And  if  the  spirit  knows  its  counterpart 

By  recognition  of  mysterious  sense, 

Then  all  life's  aspiration  touches  love 

That  is  as  nectar  sipped  with  luscious  lips 

From  flowers  perpetual  found  in  paradise. 


66  PHANTOMS    OF  LIFE. 


LXVI. 

Man  often  gropes  through  life  his  awkward  way 
Yet  touches  not  the  sympathetic  chords 
That  make  life  music  :  solitude  is  his  : 
His  hope  is  like  a  mountain  lit  far  off, 
A  dark  sea  unexplored  between. 
All  things  seem  ever  selfish  in  their  glee 
And  whisper  him  without  their  pale  of  joys. 
So  foiled  all  life  grows  passion-tossed  and  sad, 
And  what  should  nourish  does  but  sicken  it. 
All  fireside-lights  peer  blankly  at  his  step, 
And  have  no  look  of  welcome  for  his  eye  ; 
Until  his  heart  becomes  a  stony  thing 
Like  statued  apathy  around  whose  base 
The  pulse  of  life  with  all  its  joys  and  griefs 
Forever  murmurs  with  its  fretting  waves, 
But  sees  no  answering  consciousness 
Stir  in  the  staring  stillness  of  its  face. 


PHANTOMS    OF  LIFE.  67 


LXVII. 

Though  there  are  many  passions  to  the  heart 

Ere  all  the  compass  of  its  love  be  lost  ; 

Yet  one  is  purest,  crowning  crown  of  all, 

By  its  twin  heart  made  possible  to  each  ; 

Where  every  impulse  of  the  soul  is  met 

By  budding  wishes  of  its  fellow-heart. 

And  those  whom  nature  weds  with  subtlest  tie 

Show  themselves  mated  from  the  first  survey. 

To  such  concordant  souls  the  world  is  Spring. 

None  master  may  a  soul  he  does  not  love  : 

We  lose  ourselves  with  gravitation  glad 

Forever  in  the  souls  we  truly  love. 

Divinest  instinct  of  the  soul  is  love. 

If  the  tense  chord  of  life  sweet  music  has 

When  passion  struck,  its  purest  sound  is  love  ; 

That  comes  as  naturally  from  opening  hearts 

As  perfume  out  of  morning  flowers  new-blown. 


68  PHANTOMS    OF  LIFE. 


LXVIII. 

One  should  go  ever  with  thee  heart  to  heart, 

Soul  leaned  to  soul,  through  all  this  weary  life 

Of  labor,  surfeit,  suffering,  and  surprise  ; 

And  where  thou  goest  forever  unto  thee 

The  way  shall  sacred  seem  when  memory 

Can  re-illume  it  for  that  sake,  and  it 

Shall  be  a  sacred  thought  within  thy  soul  ; 

A  yearning  in  the  yearning  of  thy  heart  ; 

The  full  completion  of  thy  pictured  hope  ; 

The  image  in  thy  life  of  all  things  fair  ; 

The  inmost  thought  that  will  not  quit  with  death. 

The  past  is  memory's,  the  future  hope's  ; 

We  stand  forever  on  the  point  between. 

Around  us  from  the  dim  do  spirits  rise. 

Would  that  they  could  their  lips  in  full  unlock, 

Revisit  all  the  souls  they  loved  on  earth 

With  looks  that  should  be  revelation  clear, 

And  love  that  ever  should  be  part  of  life. 


PHANTOMS    OF  LIFE.  69 


LXIX. 

Love  is  the  very  crown  of  woman's  life  ; 

Win  that  completely  and  her  all  is  thine. 

Her  happy  soul  is  overfull  of  mirth  ; 

It  hears  for  aye  the  Sabbath  sound  of  bells 

On  the  religious  air  ;  the  golden  waifs 

That  the  rich  wreck  of  day  strews  on  the  shore 

Of  night  encircle,  aye  and  splendor  it. 

If  thou  shouldst  bind  her  with  unworthy  love 

That  leads  but  into  the  waste  marsh  of  lust, 

And  never  to  the  fertile  fields  of  home, 

She  goes  henceforth  with  desecrated  soul, 

Though  turned  from  thee  forever  in  disgust. 

The  gift  of  freedom  is  then  robbery  ;  < 

And  farewell  but  a  buffet  to  the  heart, 

That  goes  henceforth  all  disinherited 

Of  hope,  and  joyless  evermore  in  life 

Of  all  that  is  not  merely  hollow  glee 

That  holds  its  revel  in  a  vacant  heart. 


70  PHANTOMS    OF  LIFE. 

LXX. 

Are  men,  reluctant,  purposely  so  made 

To  find  contentment  only  in  the  joy 

That  waits  on  heart-fulfilment,  and  the  full 

Completion  in  the  complement  of  wife  ? 

No  other  name  will  gather  round  the  heart, 

In  gentle  troop,  sweet  thoughts  like  that  of  wife  ; 

None  call  from  overpast  such  memories  ; 

None  paint  the  future  with  such  glowing  hopes. 

Around  her  linger  thoughts  of  bridal  hours 

Delicious,  pure,  and  dreamy,  frail  with  bliss. 

Ah  !  how  we  tangle  up  our  wilful  lives 

By  wandering  wildly  in  the  dark  away 

From  home  and  simpler  hopes  that  after  all 

Are  sweetest  recompenses  of  our  lives  ! 

Such  truest  love  in  life  will  make  us  aye 

Believe  in  immortality  :  who  loves, 

So  loved,  on  earth  may  never  after  doubt  : 

Such  love  sweet  nature's  glance  that  opes  the  soul 

To  let  a  world  of  joy  in  evermore. 


PHANTOMS    OF  LIFE.  7 1 


LXXI. 

How  brightly  ever  in  the  firmament 

Of  every  heart  stands  out  the  star  of  home  ! 

To  homeless  be,  forever  is  in  pain 

To  hear  eternal  harmony  with  eyes 

Fixed  toward  the  ever-open  gates  of  far-off  joy. 

Ah  !  when  the  soul  has  of  existence  grown 

So  weary  that  no  charm  in  friendship  lies, 

And  doubt  looms  up  a  phantom  form  instead  ; 

However  self-reliant,  then  the  heart 

Feels  need  of  sweeter  power  to  guide  its  steps. 

All  else  is  wish  that  falters  short  of  hope. 

Through  all  the  wanderings  of  its  after-life 

The  heart  yearns  ever  for  that  sweetest  spot, 

The  mountain-top  seen  fairest  from  afar. 

In  suffering,  solitude  it  teaches  us, 

By  sweetly  sad  remembrance,  that  this  life 

Is  empty  ever  till  the  heart  is  filled. 


72  PHANTOMS    OF  LIFE. 


LXXII. 

He  who  would  make  his  life  a  precious  thing 

Must  nurse  a  kindly  purpose  in  his  soul, 

And  with  a  sunny  patience  follow  it. 

This  balanced  life  so  trembles  full  of  fear 

We  may  not  pay  a  motive  for  a  kiss. 

Life  has  its  language  and  its  fitting  time 

For  love,  life's  master,  to  look  laughing  on. 

So  seek  in  confidence  and  you  shall  find 

A  joy  so  made  that  it  will  fit  but  you  ; 

A  home  where  like  love's  king  you  may  put  off 

The  cares  of  daily  life,  and  whisper  tales 

Of  olden  dreams  to  ears  that,  hear  with  joy. 

The  hero-hearts  of  life  too  often  break 

Without  the  sweet  reward  of  victory. 

Go  hear  the  sweet  songs  of  love's  quiet  homes,. 

For  life  not  colored  full  of  joy  and  grief 

Can  give  its  own  nor  others  fullest  tone. 


PHANTOMS    OF  LIFE.  73 

LXXIII. 

True  happiness  on  earth  is  only  found 

In  the  fulfilment  of  life's  duties  well. 

All  we  can  know  of  men  is  what  they  do  : 

Their  aims  are  all*  their  own.     We  only  know 

An  angel  by  its  deeds  ;  for  shining  wings 

And  brows  with  glory  touched  are  promises 

That  make  us  question  well  of  him  who  bears. 

Warm  broods  the  soul  over  its  nest  of  love. 

Nature  seems  on  the  threshold  of  all  joy 

When  such  well-mated  souls  together  meet 

To  wander  all  the  wilderness  of  life 

In  sweet  companionship  of  heart  to  heart. 

When  true  't  is  the  chance  poem  of  an  age. 

Thank  Heaven  they  grow  no  rarer  with  the  years  ; 

But  every  following  cycle  counts  them  more. 

The  loftiest  souls  are  to  their  lips  in  heaven, 

But  hardly  dare  to  tell  it  to  themselves. 

What  is  the  wage  of  life  but  labor's  heart. 

For  aye  serene,  its  own  unspent  reward. 


74  PHANTOMS    OF  LIFE. 


LXXIV. 

Once  many  dusky  faces,  awkward  forms, 
And  rudely  featured,  stood  together  brave, 
And  solved  the  question  of  their  destiny  : 
Coarse  faces  looking  as  if  sculpt  from  clay 
Into  man's  image,  but  as  lacking  yet 
The  sculptor's  touch  to  finish  them  to  men  : 
Pure  Freedom's  statues  cut  from  living  stone 
And  fashioned  into  manhood  by  her  hand. 
They  held  the  future  in  their  own  right  hands  : 
Who  fears  not  death  is  lord  of  all  who  fear. 
Then  the  vile  habit  of  the  human  race 
That  learned  to  live  by  using  others'  toil 
Reluctant  yielded  all  unfit  to  stand  ; 
And  men  paid  tribute  in  their  best  heart's  blood 
To  the  mean  weakness  of  their  ancestors, 
And  paid  in  war,  the  wages  of  a  race. 


PHANTOMS    OF  LIFE,  75 


LXXV. 

That  soul  is  poor  that  takes  no  note  of  wrongs 

To  others  given  till  it  is  harmed  itself. 

Out  of  insensibility  are  tyrants  made. 

The  soul  that 's  ever  stirred  by  kind  intent 

For  its  spoiled  wayward  fellows  has  alone 

An  ever-during  beauty  in  its  life. 

Who  leads  a  land  should  calm  and  steadfast  be, 

Bonfire  nor  taper,  but  a  tower  of  light. 

Some  lives  are  made  so  fine  as  to  be  frail  ; 

Some  souls  seem,  sea-like,  grander  in  their  storms  ; 

But  he  who,  strong  in  his  humanity, 

And  urged  by  truth,  stands  firm  against  the  world 

When  wrong,  is  almost  godlike  ;  and  so  wins 

A  sense  of  power,  and  stands  as  near  to  God 

As  aught  may  do  that  is  not  all  divine. 


76  PHANTOMS    OF  LIFE. 


LXXVI. 

A  land  shall  live  if  to  its  poorest  just ; 
Nor  preaches  peace  with  dagger  for  its  text  ; 
Nor  leads  to  war  a  blinded  herd  of  men 
Who  lag  forever  in  the  way  of  truth  ; 
Nor  can  it  guide  the  strife  to  come  that  has 
Its  ear  too  quick  to  catch  the  clink  of  gold, 
Nor  hands  that  perish  at  the  touch  of  toil, 
Nor  voice  that  clank  of  fetters  may  o'erwhelm. 
He  knows  the  least,  of  men  that  know  at  all, 
Who  thinks  he  knows  the  secret  of  the  world 
And  understands  its  deep  perplexities. 
Yet  men  are  wiser  than  earth's  cycled  years 
And  in  their  little  lives  have  weighed  the  world 
And  found  it  wanting  ;  and  have  judged  it  so. 
Men  quickly  leap  upon  a  deed  that  's  done 
And  turn  it  to  their  profits  ;  but  the  world 
Swings  grandly  on  its  way  and  fate  fulfils. 


PHANTOMS    OF  LIFE. 


LXXVII. 

The  shadow  of  old  bondage  glooms  the  earth, 
And  man  is  ever  falsest  to  himself ; 
And  yields  his  freedom  to  the  ancient  forms 
That  own  not  man's  equality  of  soul, 
Construing  accident  into  a  law, 
And  knowing  majesty  but  by  its  robes. 
Not  in  subjection  of  his  will  can  man 
Get  his  full  stature  in  the  realm  of  truth  ; 
But  by  his  bravest  self-assertion  calm  ; 
Though  seemingly  he  thwarts  the  will  divine. 
He  is  most  like  his  source  when  most  himself, 
And  freest  from  all  else  that  binds  his  will, 
Except  the  limits  that  confine  all  things. 


78  PHANTOMS    OF  LIFE. 

LXXVIII. 

At  last  all  bondage  of  the  soul  must  break, 
Unable  or  to  bind  or  bear  the  strain  ; 
Earth  ever  bears  us  toward  this  grand  result. 
Freedom's  unfailing  fountain  deeper  lies 
Within  the  soul  than  hand  of  man  can  reach. 
Each  day  is  bondage  nearer  to  its  end  ; 
Unbound  the  universe  lives,  gladdens,  glows  : 
Full  heaven  and  earth  of  governed  liberty — 
Not  frenzied  freedom,  madly  unrestrained. 
The  world  that  breeds  unselfishness  in  one 
Is  somewhere  worthy  in  its  many  lives. 
All  feudal  forms  and  aristocracies 
Are  selfishness  concrete — the  barren  blooms 
Of  once  rich  gardens  into  commons  lapsed. 
Democracy  the  germ,  uncultured  yet, 
Of  man's  inherent  generosity, 
And  wiser  wisdom  than  the  past  has  seen. 
And  truth  well  sung  to  fullest  scope  shall  be 
The  epic  of  man's  freedom,  whose  full  sun 
Shall  glowing  rise  on  old  benighted  realms. 


PHANTOMS    OF  LIFE.  79 


LXXIX. 

Earth  was  not  made  for  nations  but  for  man. 

Wars  are  the  nests  where  lands  their  tyrants  hatch. 

When  every  breast  is  liberty's  pure  shrine, 

Then  will  the  willing  earth  be  truly  free  ; 

A  hope  in  whose  far  light  the  future  walks. 

The  test  of  men  and  nations  is  their  aims. 

But  one  man  in  a  thousand  knows  the  face 

Of  freedom,  which  is  faith  in  fellow-men. 

Yet  man  is  ever  for  true  freedom  ripe 

Till  it  has  grown  a  custom  of  the  mind. 

It  is  the  summit  of  advancing  truth 

That  crowns  with  sweetness  travail  of  the  past  ; 

The  harvest  labored  in  old  fields  of  thought. 

Full  thanks  to  Heaven  that  with  each  setting  sun 

All  tyranny  is  nearer  to  its  end. 


80  PHANTOMS    OF  LIFE. 


LXXX. 

When  woman  has  her  rights,  as  well  as  man, 
The  senseless  boundaries  that  now  limit  her 
In  love  and  work  and  worship  will  be  gone  ; 
And  wider  fields  of  labor  will  remove 
The  greedy  competition  that  now  starves, 
And  makes  her  slave  in  body  and  soul  to  man. 
When  woman  is  made  free,  and  freer  man, 
And  equal  both,  then  love  is  possible 
That  has  no  bitter  after-taste  of  lust. 
Then  will  she  be  companion  unto  him, 
And  fellow  in  his  loftiest  hours  and  aims  ; 
Not  plaything  in  his  hours  of  idleness, 
But  helper  in  the  sacred  work  of  the  age — 
The  work  that  locks  its  secret  in  itself — 
The  self-anointed  office  of  such  souls 

As  ken  the  secret  by  uplifted  thoughts 

lovf*4 
And  kindred  worship,  work,  and  prayer. 


PHANTOMS    OF  LIFE.  8 1 


LXXXI. 

'T  is  not  the  tyrant  but  the  tyranny 
Truth  hates  and  battles  with.     The  circumstance 
That  makes  a  soul  so  brutal  it  resists. 
How  damned  with  dire  disease  the  world 
That  breeds  such  nightmare  shapes  as  these  ! 
Looking  at  them  the  earth  all  monstrous  seems. 
Forever  man  throws  down  the  gage  of  war, — 
Not  unto  them  which  he  can  well  forget  ; 
But  to  the  foulness  that  begets  them  such. 
The  customs  of  the  world  its  tyrants  are  : 
Some  men  can  only  or  conform  or  fail. 
The  world  has  greater  faith  in  the  guarded  words 
And  sifted  judgment  of  the  mighty  dead 
Than  in  the  voice  of  prophet  yet  alive  ; 
Or  voice  of  any  one  who  may  write  fool 
Upon  the  full-bound  volume  of  his  life. 


82  PHANTOMS    OF  LIFE. 


LXXXII. 

The  soul  has  hours  when  it  will  shrink  from  earth  \ 

FeeHove  a  fiction  ;  glory  but  a  gleam  ; 

All  friendship  but  the  gilding  of  a  cheat ; 

And  life  a  weary  wandering  ;  heaven  a  hope  : 

There  seems  no  profit  in  the  counted  years, 

Nor  promise  in  the  ages  yet  unborn  : 

The  truths  of  earth  so  little  glorious  are 

They  make  no  rainbow  with  the  tears  of  time. 

Volcanic  passions  working  till  they  burst 

Heap  ever  ashes  on  all  human  hope  ; 

And  make  earth  like  a  phantom  masquerade, 

With  shifting  change  grotesque  of  life  and  death. 

The  very  soul  is  swollen  and  benumbed  ; 

And  all  the  architecture  of  its  hopes, 

That  youth  had  sunned  to  glory,  vanishes 

And  leaves  it  stripped  in  ashes,  and  this  life 

Ends  in  cold  questions,  and  the  all  of  things 

Seems  voiceless,  empty,  and  unpromising. 


PHANTOMS    OF  LIFE.  83 

LXXXIII. 

The  common  soul  may  never  know  the  world 

Where  wretched  genius  gropes,  though  not  insane, 

In  an  unbalanced  turbulence  of  mind  : 

The  madness  and  the  mastery  of  a  soul 

That  's  concentrate  upon  a  hope  it  cannot  reach  ; 

Yet  clinging  to  dead  hopes  as  the  old  moon 

With  rim  of  life  clings  to  her  darkened  orb. 

The  soul  is  bound  until  its  hungry  thought 

Becomes  a  slave  and  forges  its  own  chains. 

Through  sheer  perversity  of  blinded  love 

It  oft  its  worst  delusions  tightest  holds. 

No  patient  work  and  blest  endurance  calm 

By  which  to  build  for  immortality  : 

A  morbid  soul  urged  by  insatiate  hopes 

That  make  a  cruelty  of  life — the  thirst 

Of  fevered-wild  ambition,  such  as  leaves 

This  life  unfilled  and  dies  itself  unquenched  ; 

With  not  a  hope  to  steer  by  launched  on  life  ; 

Till  vulture  passions  in  voracious  greed 

On  his  torn  vitals  feed,  and  outwrung  cries 

Of  pain  convulse  and  fade  from  air  again. 


84  PHANTOMS    OF  LIFE. 

LXXXIV. 

Death  shoots  his  arrows  by  the  light  of  love 

Along  our  heartstrings  till  we  hardly  dare 

To  feel  them  cling  lest  he  strike  quickly  there. 

Our  life's  retreat  is  strewn  with  dying  hopes  ; 

Our  years  depart  as  guests  from  banquets  go, 

Worn  out  with  revel,  falling  into  sleep. 

The  paths  of  life  and  death  meet  at  the  grave, 

That  wave  of  earth  where  often  love  lies  wrecked. 

Life's  fated  links  go  by  us  one  by  one 

But  lift  the  chain  from  off  us  nevermore. 

When  all  life's  aim  is  told,  does  it  but  mean 

To  suffer  for  each  other  and  beguile  ? 

Man  fit  to  die  is  fit  for  nothing  else. 

Extinguished  hope  relit  is  not  again 

That  which  it  was  before  ;  the  darkness  brief 

Reveals  a  thousand  aspects  to  the  heart 

That  color  all  the  new  light  can  disclose. 

Pure  sorrow  oft  is  generous  and  turns 

A  deluged  heart  to  sweetest  ministry. 


PHANTOMS    OF  LIFE.  8$ 


LXXXV. 

They  feel  the  deepest  sorrow  who  conceal. 
Deep  sorrow  ever  cannot  word  itself  : 
The  deepest  never  shadows  e'en  the  face 
With  tell-tale  aspect  that  a  question  draws. 
Love  ever  stands  before  the  cell  of  grief, 
When  it  is  deep  enough  to  be  divine, 
And  keeps  it  sacred  with  a  voiceless  mask. 
The  voice  that  seems  to  come  from  sorrow's  self 
Is  ever  wrung  from  self-love  by  its  pride, 
And  is  indeed  but  disappointment's  tone. 
There  is  one  grief  to  each  soul  possible, 
That  felt,  so  equals  it  eclipses  it. 
Then  life  may  cast  its  hopes  as  oft  the  sea 
In  anger  casts  upon  the  shore  its  dead. 
Yet  plummet-hope  cast  in  the  depths  of  grief 
Will  find  eternal  calm  where  silence  has 
Her  shrine,  and  where  the  wrecks  of  joy 
Give  a  strange  beauty  to  the  land  of  death. 


86  PHANTOMS    OF  LIFE, 


LXXXVI. 

Fret  as  we  will  about  our  little  cares 
And  gather  sweets  for  flowerless  days  of  life, 
The  steady  earth  goes  smoothly  on  its  way 
And  bears  us,  though  unwillingly,  to  rest. 
When  all  is  done  we  do  but  balance  up 
This  life's  account  and  find  there  's  nothing  due 
The  world  or  us  :   Death  gives  receipts  in  full. 
Who  has  the  present  never  can  be  robbed. 
Among  the  virtues  that  do  honor  man 
Is  steadfastness  that,  having  fixed  its  soul 
On  worthy  purposes,  looks  not  aside 
Until  it  works  all  things  to  full  success. 
Things  won  by  straining  have  the  strain  within  : 
True  souls  can  win  their  aims  nor  lose  the  truth  : 
The  world  they  live  in  is  by  such  redeemed; 


PHANTOMS    OF  LIFE.  8/ 


LXXXVII. 

A  man  may  revel  in  the  wealth  of  youth, 
And  give  his  heart  to  hopes  of  phantom  fame  ; 
So  drink  his  days  up  to  the  dregs  of  dreams  : 
Or  love,  and  see  in  one  fair  face  the  mold 
In  which  all  nature  has  her  beauty  cast  ; 
Hold  fame  forever  lackey  to  her  smile, 
Until  she  robs  him  of  himself  and  youth  ; 
Then  by  life's  empty  casket  so  grow  man. 
And  learning  lure  him  ;  and  in  skeletons, 
And  hearts  whose  throbs  have  ceased,  and  forms  of 

plants, 

And  cast-off  shells  and  crystals  find  no  less 
That  life  has  limits  ;  each  ambition  leads 
To  where  no  plummet-thought  can  bottom  find  : 
Soul-travail  ere  a  sweet  content  is  born. 
Misfortune  often  bows  us  to  the  dust 
To  show  us  all  the  gold  of  life  else  lost. 


5  PHANTOMS    OF  LIFE. 

LXXXVIII. 

Man's  thoughts  are  as  an  angel's,  but  his  deeds 

Are  often  of  the  level  of  the  worm. 

Men  strut  and  stagger  with  their  bended  backs 

Loaded  and  smothered  with  the  gilded  weights 

That  pay  no  porterage  except  to  pride — 

The  weed  that  flaunts  the  gaudiest  flower  of  all 

And  makes  the  way-side  vulgar  with  its  glare. 

And  few  can  wear  a  pride  that  will  not  be 

A  threadbare  vanity  at  every  edge, 

And  wrinkle  life's  best  laughter  with  a  sneer. 

Some  faulty  souls  rob  life  of  all  its  worth 

To  make  their  after-death  time  over-rich. 

Man  often  walks  this  earth  unstirred,  unwon, 

Like  a  swart  stranger  on  the  marts  of  trade, 

And  gazing  idly  wonders  at  the  jar 

Whose  very  meaning  is  to  him  unknown. 

Earth  is  not  paradise  to  devil-eyes  ; 

From  vile  imagination's  crevices 

Crawl  insect  doubts  that  will  defile  its  thoughts. 


PHANTOMS    OF  LIFE,  89  • 

LXXXIX. 

Go  reverent  con  the  volume  of  the  streets. 

No  need  to  know  the  custom  of  the  place  : 

It  is  a  well-worn  crossing-place  of  earth. 

Who  carries  in  his  face  a  bold  intent, 

His  welcome  makes  and  for  the  moment  rules. 

For  all  the  idle  men  confess  their  shams 

When  comes  abroad  the  earnest  worker  once. 

This  world  with  all  its  folly  knows  itself. 

Here  breaks  the  roar  of  life's  tumultuous  waves. 

Men  catch  the  floating  bubbles  of  this  life 

And  burst  them  one  by  one  and  call  it  joy  ; 

Here  ignorance  rank  of  men  in  morbid  mass — 

The  slime  whence  cometh  every  monstrous  thought  ; 

Here  life  becomes  a  form  and  law  a  doubt  ; 

Here  lives  of  men  flare  out  in  fevered  flame  ; 

Here  penances  are  emblemed  ornaments  ; 

Here  beauty  shows  its  ugly  skeleton  : 

The  scars  of  life's  fierce  fight  on  every  soul 

Are  seen  ;  and  in  each  face  the  battle  gleam  ; 

Here  many  marry  and  the  fewest  mate  ; 

Here  men  cook  victuals  by  their  altar-fires. 


9O  PHANTOMS    OF  LIFE. 


XC. 

Look  thou  abroad  upon  this  human  sea 

And  comprehend  the  deluge  for  a  truth, 

So  one  with  nature  that  't  is  true  for  time. 

Here  ignorance  with  all  its  groping  doubts 

And  gluttonous  greed  of  monstrous  morbid  things, 

With  seething  turbulence  from  the  gloomy  past, 

Forever  gathers  with  disturbing  force 

On  all  mankind.     Some  bravely  breast  the  waves  ; 

Some  struggle  with  the  fragments  of  the  wreck  ; 

Some  sink  at  once  to  silence  ;  and  a  few 

Sit  on  the  hopeless  shores  in  solitude 

And  see  the  waifs  of  all  their  world  of  joy 

In  broken  shapes  of  death  adrift  around. 

How  wildly  whirling  from  fhe  stormy  past 

The  world  comes  dizzy  with  its  plots  and  wars 

And  clear  oblivion  of  humanities. 

Not  strange  it  yet  relapses  into  guilt 

And  staggers  from  the  orbit  of  the  true. 


PHANTOMS    OF  LIFE.  9 1 


XCI. 

The  solace  of  elysian  thoughts  comes  not 

Unless  in  the  calm  solitude  of  soul  : 

And  as  they  truly  fabled  in  old  days 

The  lonely  shepherd's  dream  was  often  blessed 

By  some  fair  goddess  garmented  in  light, 

So  shall  the  yearning  soul  that  seeks  the  sands 

Of  living  wisdom,  from  the  busy  path, 

Asleep  with  weariness,  have  his  pale  brow 

Touched  by  the  fingers  of  sweet  thoughts  divine 

That  make  his  weakness  holy  as  in  dream. 

At  times  the  soul  runs  high  and  strong,  and  gains 

Upon  the  shore  of  its  existence  far. 

Man,  tree-like,  must  draw  vigor  from  the  earth 

To  rise  in  bloom  to  heaven.     Great  souls 

Are  the  strong  roots  of  humankind  that  pierce 

The  universe,  and  with  the  thoughts  they  get 

They  make  the  lives  of  their  dependent  souls 

Grow  green  and  beautiful  in  love's  illume. 


92  PHANTOMS    OF  LIFE. 


XCII. 

Deeds  of  to-day  men  laugh  at  with  a  sneer, 
Not  fitting  with  the  forms  that  rule  the  hour, 
Shall  speed  far-widening  down  the  track  of  time, 
And  stir  the  souls  of  ages  yet  to  come 
With  echo  of  their  glory  ;  and  will  make 
All  hearts  play  pilgrim  with  their  gratitude. 
The  hope  that  shall  unite  in  brotherhood 
Of  emulous  strife  and  labor  our  sons'  sons, 
And  be  a  step  in  man's  advance  to  good, 
Is  now  a  wish  upon  the  lips  of  him 
Who  bids  the  world  go  onward  in  its  course, 
Unguided  through  its  darkness  by  his  voice. 
Man  is  an  infant  to  the  man  to  be. 


PHANTOMS    OF  LIFE.  93 


XCIII. 

'T  is  they  live  longest  in  the  future  who 
Have  truest  kept  the  purposes  of  life. 
We  know  not  of  to-morrow  save  in  hope, 
And  in  faith's  ferry  venture  Stygian  night 
To  see  its  other  side  ;  yet  hope  is  vain 
That  is  not  built  on  reason's  promises, 
And  laws  of  nature  by  her  habits  known. 
They  best  the  meaning  of  the  future  know 
Who  fullest  see  the  features  of  to-day. 
The  wizard  hand  that  writes  the  deeds  undone, 
And  dares  extort  from  fate  what  is  to  be, 
Must  from  the  fragmentary  records  read  ; 
Unclinch  the  past,  and  from  its  tomb  evoke 
Wise,  reverent  forms,  and  make  them  prophesy  ; 
And  wrench  its  inmost  secret  from  to-day. 


94  PHANTOMS    OF  LIFE. 


XCIV. 

He  who  writes  pure  the  epic  of  the  years, 
Must  send  his  slender  cord  among  the  clouds, 
And  lure  their  secret  down  into  to-day  ; 
Must  trace  the  comet-orb  of  final  truth, 
Instinct  in  aim,  where  shines  dim  ray  of  light, 
And  sound  faint  vibrates  from  creation's  work  ; 
And  from  the  absolute  and  fated  cast 
The  orbit  of  mankind  ;  and  so  project 
Its  pathway  through  the  future,  and  record, 
The  obedient  earth  shall  ever  after  seem 
To  travel  in  the  light  of  what  he  writes. 
Some  deeds  are  figures  that  shall  reckon  up 
The  purpose  and  the  progress  of  the  age. 


PHANTOMS    OF  LIFE.  95 


XCV. 

All  the  glad  stars  throw  down  their  jewelled  light 
In  rapture  at  His  feet  ;  and  sees  the  moon 
Within  the  glowing  stream  a  phantom  night  ; 
The  far-off  clouds  lift,  ladder-like,  to  heaven  ; 
The  suns  which  sentinel  upon  the  verge 
Of  everlasting  darkness  lean  to  God  : 
Almost  is  heard  the  breath  of  Him  that  wakes 
From  chords  of  clay  the  music  of  the  soul : 
New  starry  thoughts  are  in  the  spirit's  sky 
For  every  strength  of  eye,  as  if  it  pierced 
The  curtain  that  creation  hangs  about 
The  senses,  and  had  caught  a  living  glimpse 
Of  the  eternal  beauty  that  pervades  all  things. 


THE    END. 


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